And Never Again short fic
by WhiteWerewolf90
Summary: Set after Devil's Trap as it sort of plays with the idea of Sam leaving the hunting life. It's just a short fic and i suck at writing a summary sorry about that.


_This is set, once again, after Devil's Trap. Just a short fic - what you see is what you get. It sort of plays with the idea of Sam going back to live his 'Apple-Pie life'. OriginallyI didn't know whether to continue this as a full fiction, or just leave it. I opted for leaving it because I prefer short fics. But i'll stop rambling now._

_Disclaimer - I own nothing but the imagination that brought this story about._

_If you're kind enough to read, then please go the extra step and be kind enough to review too, thank you._

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**...In The End**

"I'm not doing this anymore, Dean!" Sam argued as he pushed his things into his rucksack.

"Sam! You're not leaving, not like this!" Dean counter argued as he grabbed Sam's bag from him and threw it back on the shabby motel bed. This wasn't fair. He'd already lost one person; he couldn't loose Sam too...

"Dads dead, Dean!" Sam shouted. "Mom's dead. Dad's dead. Jess…" he paused. "Jess is dead. We don't have any bullets left. Shit, we don't even have the gun, Dean. It's over. The demon won."

Dean, as usual, reacted violently as he pinned Sam against the wall, tightly grasping the front of his shirt. "No, Sam. You were the one hell bent on revenge. You…you and dad were the ones willing to end your lives for this. I'm not letting you quit now," he said sternly, tears in his eyes.

Not two months ago was when the demon had finally almost been killed. But, in the end, the tables turned. It possessed their dad and nearly killed Dean. Yet, somehow, they managed to get away. Somehow, they escaped from that. And when they were only ten minutes from the hospital, desperate to save Dean from bleeding out, and get John to the hospital after Sam had had to shoot his father above the knee to stop the demon…well, the demon had caught up. It slammed a lorry into the side of the Impala: the side John was sitting.

Sam was the first to wake up as the demon dragged him from the car, punching him in the face and getting the Colt from John, who was still unconscious, like Dean. Had a passer-by not been witness, calling the police and an ambulance only seconds after it happened, they would probably all be dead. But no, the demon got away – with the gun.

At that time Sam had more important things to worry about. Once in hospital Dean needed stitches and blood. Sam gave blood – as much as the doctors would allow – for his brother and father. Sam just needed a few stitches above his eye, but he was fine, nothing serious – every test came up negative. John, however, slipped into a coma; Dean woke up after an operation and stitches. All Dean needed was rest after that, but John needed more…he needed a miracle.

One month ago, neither Sam nor Dean having left Johns bed, the doctor had informed them that John was brain dead. Dean broke down and wouldn't stay. He couldn't stay – it killed him. Sam had to sign the forms and let them turn off the machines. It killed Sam to do that, but it was Dean who still couldn't face the truth, not then and not now.

Sam pushed his brother away. "Dean," he said, tears in his eyes too as he remembered everything they'd lost, and how much he wanted to kill that demon. "There's nothing left."

"No, Sam. You're wrong. That demon's still out there. It's still killing people. It's still after kids - "

"Kids like me?" Sam countered. "I don't care anymore, Dean. We can't kill it. We can't even keep it away from us. Holy water…salt…hallowed ground? Nothing works."

"We'll find something. We still need to do this, Sam. We don't have a choice."

"Yeah, we do," Sam grabbed the bag off the bed. "And I've made mine."

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Sam sat on the coach back to Stanford. That was the only place he could go. It was either that or Lawrence, Kansas, but the only person who could help him in Kansas was Missouri and he didn't want to see her. She'd know things, and if he had to tell her about John then he would break down. It hadn't really hit him yet, but when he had to break it to people, then…then it would hit him. So in Stanford – where no one knew, cared, or dared to ask about his family, was home.

Dean still sat in the motel room. Sam had left two hours ago – he didn't even know where he was going. But Dean knew that there was a coach depot only twenty minutes drive from where they were. Sam would go there. But he didn't chase him. There was no point – he couldn't change his mind. But Dean had nothing to go to. All he had was hunting. He'd continue to hunt. He told himself that again and again. That demon had destroyed his life. All he could do…all he could think about doing was killing it. He wanted to know _why_. It had already told them that Jess and Mary had got in the way. The way of what?

But did he care anymore? Did he need answers or revenge for closure? He knew he had no hope, not yet. The demon would sink into hiding for a while or take full pleasure of its immortality. Until the demon resurfaced there was nothing he could do. He'd continue hunting. Werewolves, shape shifters, folk lore and urban legends. Whatever came he'd hunt. He just wished he didn't have to do it on his own…

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Five weeks on and Sam was starting to get his life back. As much as he hated it, he had started coming to terms with his dad's death. There was nothing he could do about it, and he realised he had to accept that. Getting back into college wasn't hard and he even had the interview for the full ride – which he got. He'd been staying with friends who were only happy to help him out. For once, it seemed things were going right.

Sam still thought about Dean and still hated leaving him to do the work of their dad on his own. If anything ever happened to Dean he wouldn't know. Dean would go down as a John Doe because of all those damn fake credit cards. So, it pained him a lot to think of that, but he couldn't go back. He wanted it all to be over. And, for him, it was.

Dean had tried getting on with his own life. He went to some of his dads old friends for a while. They were good to him, helped him out when even his own brother had left him. But now he was back on the road. He couldn't sit still – he couldn't stay in one place long enough. Hunting was his life and it was all he had. So he did what he had to do. Though he still had nightmares. The accident, or rather murder, had affected him worse than Sam. The events before the crash had affected him worse. He didn't sleep much – he couldn't sleep. He usually woke up from nightmares in a cold sweat before realising everything he dreamt had already happened. He missed his dad, and he missed Sam.

But he didn't call Sam, didn't contact him. Sam had chosen his route and Dean didn't want to pull him back into this: mainly because he wanted to avoid the conflict. He knew, sooner or later, he would have to phone Sam – he just didn't want too.

The Impala had been fixed, after a lot of cash and a good two weeks of work, probably the only good thing left. Though it didn't help when Dean had to bribe the mechanic who picked up the car not to notify the police of the God only knows how many weapons in the boot. He didn't, thankfully. But Dean hated the damn car now. After all, it had been Johns, and he and his brother and been travelling cross country for over a year before the crash…before Sam left…before John died. It just didn't feel right anymore.

Dean pulled into a motel for the night and paid, booking a room. He had no idea what he was doing anymore. He followed the news, looking for leads or anything to keep him occupied. Sighing he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the newspaper toward him_. Murders in Illinois… …Cattle mutilations in Arizona…Temperature fluctuations believed to result in electrical storms…Lotto numbers still unclaimed_

Dean stopped and re-read the part about Arizona. He read through it a further three times before he remembered those were the same signs his father had mentioned. The same signs that meant that the demon was coming.

Swearing, he pulled his phone out f his pocket and immediately rang Sam. It just came natural to him now – instinct to ring his kid brother. It was like he forgot he left, but by the third ring he remembered, but still, he got this far…_please, Sammy, pick up the phone, man…_

After six rings the phone went to the recorded message for voice mail, 'Hey, its Sam, leave a name and your number and I'll get back.'

Dean hung up, angry as hell. If he stayed on the phone he'd scream at his brother, whether he listened to him or not. Give himself five minutes and ring back, talk calmly and don't threaten. Better chances. So he waited, planning what he was going to say before ringing again and again it went to voicemail.

"Sam, I know you're not going to listen to this but please, the demons going to attack again…and…" he paused. "I can't do this without you, Sammy. We made a good team. Please, just…help me, this last time. Then I swear I'll leave you alone for the rest of your life but I can't do this, Sam, not without help - " Dean was cut off as the phone was answered.

"Dean," Sam said quietly, God, he wished he hadn't picked up the phone. "I can't do it."

"Sam, please, we can't just let it kill another family…Dad would want us to do something."

"Dean, dads gone. You gotta start accepting that. The demon got away. There's nothing left. We can't kill it…"

Dean gripped the phone tightly – after everything Sam should be the one more determined on revenge than ever, but he'd given up. "I'm not going to stop hunting this thing till its dead, Sam, please; I can't do this on my own."

"Yeah you can."

"Not this time, Sammy."

Sam took a deep breath, he hated doing this, he hated saying no to his older brother, but he couldn't help, not now. "Dean, I've just got back into school. I got the full ride. I'm making something of myself now, I can't leave."

Dean sighed; he wasn't even going to argue with Sam. There was no point. It was obvious he'd made up his mind. "See ya around, Sam," he finished as he hung up. He couldn't force Sam to help him, no matter what he said, Sam was done with this.

But Dean wasn't.

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End file.
